


To The Moon And Back

by Pullandfox



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pullandfox/pseuds/Pullandfox
Summary: Minho falls in love with the boy from the moon
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Minho - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. First star

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I don't know exactly when it all happened, all this story, these inexplicable things. I don't know when I started to feel my cheeks catch fire as soon as he was there, to feel those damn feelings running through my body every second of my life and forget about the rest of the world to get into his. I don't know. I don't know. Maybe it started that day when he closed his curtains in front of us and I burst into tears because I realized I'd fucked everything up. Maybe that other day, when I ran away from my home at night to avoid the screams that were haunting the house and that he was there, lying on the grass and looking up at the dark sky. Or maybe it was that image there, the very first one.

Him, across the street. And me, who, at ten years old, still had no idea that I would soon fall madly in love with the little blond boy who dreamed of freedom.

It scares me because it was the first memory of our future, but I'm starting to forget the details, the sensations, the heat of the sun at twenty-eight degrees and the smell of the cut grass. I forget because I was just a carefree child. I couldn't know that this moment was important, that I had to remember every fragment of time even if it was too different from the stories I was told. But I don't want to see my childhood fade away, I don't want to see our first time together sink into the unexplored parts of my brain so I'm trying. I'm trying to remember that moment, the one that maybe created all those fireworks of feelings.

It was a month or two before my birthday, at the end of the summer. I remember feeling like an adult at that time. I was one of the oldest kids in school, and that meant I was an adult. I felt big and I felt even bigger and stronger after beating my sister at whatever game I had invented to spend hours in the garden in the August sun. I confess, I was cheating a bit, turning the rules upside down to make them to my advantage in the end. And almost every time I won.

This sun, it had just reappeared high in the sky when, sitting in the grass of the garden, I saw a blue car followed by a white van stop in front of a house. It was the house across the street, the one with the front of the house placarded with "SOLD" in capital letters. It was the house that had been empty for two months, which once belonged to a small family that I knew well.

At the beginning of that summer, the father of the family who lived across the street had just been transferred to work. Not too far away, just across the country. And the house had started to empty of its furniture. Sometimes, when I woke up a little too early, before the birds had even started to sing, I would see a couch on the sidewalk across the street, probably waiting for someone to come and get it. Another morning, it was a box, two boxes, hundreds more boxes that were stuffed into the trunk of a truck. During another of these mornings, I could see a lot of people working through the windows on each floor, behind the white lace curtains that only let a glimpse of life shine through.

And then, one day, the family locked the empty house. They put a "for sale" sign on the iron gate, got into the grey car waiting quietly in front, and drove off with a thunderous engine noise. The girl I was in love with was flying away with it.

So, when I saw a car pull up, followed by a white van, I was hoping of seeing her again, of seeing her open the door and put her feet one by one on the asphalt of the sidewalk. I was hoping of seeing her round, smiling face turn towards me again. I didn't even think about the fact that the "for sale" sign couldn't be replaced by "SOLD" thanks to the same family. I didn't think about it because my brain was clouded with excitement. I was just hoping for unlikely things without worrying about whether or not they made sense.

It was this euphoria that caused me to come home screaming and jumping around the house. I wasn't even paying attention to that seemingly rare vase, which should not be approached, and certainly not dropped. I was just slaloming through the furniture and the various doors so that I could reach the living room and show the whole house my joy that was just waiting to explode.

"Mom! Dad !"

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

My mother answered me as she rushed down the stairs, afraid something had happened to me. If agitation was a danger then, yes, she had reason to worry about me.

"Mom, the neighbours have come back!"

"What are you talking about, Minho?"

"I saw the truck! The same one as when they left! Come and look!"

I grabbed her by the hand before running her into the garden where my sister was still playing, making crowns with the few flowers that were floating in the grass. We stopped behind the blue gate, right next to the fence, to keep it as discreet as possible. And the driver's door opened.

It wasn't his dad. It wasn't the same family, it wasn't the same dad. I was absolutely sure of that. It was someone else, someone I had never seen before. He was pretty thin, had sunken cheeks and a few brown hairs fighting on top of his head. His blue shirt tucked into his grey trousers and his waist was highlighted by a black belt shining in the sun.

On the other side, a lady opened the door. She was quite chubby and not very tall. Her curly hair cascaded down her red polka-dot dress and, even from where I was standing, could see that she had big and expressive brown eyes . She was really pretty, so pretty. Even with the eyes of a 10-year-old child who only thought about his lost love and his discoloured toys, she was pretty.

And then, I still remember widening my eyes, opening my mouth and thinking of nothing but him, this cosmonaut from the stars who had just gotten out of the car to hide in his father's arms.


	2. Second star

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Tears. Bluish tears, translucent tears and tears falling on his rosy cheeks in a waterfall. I couldn't see very well but his eyes could be seen through the glass that protected the rest of his face. They were swollen, red on the sides and the sobs that poured down must surely have blocked him from seeing his world other than blurred. His father, who was still holding him in his arms, whispered something as he leaned towards him. I don't know what, I didn't hear it, I was too far away. But it must have been reassuring words, something rather nice and not too rough because of the expressions on the faces of this unknown family. The boy too, even though the tears hadn't finished their way yet.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Minho?"

"Who are they?"

"New neighbors, my love."

"But mom, why is he dressed like that?"

"Like an astronaut?"

"Yes, with the big mask there."

"I don't know, honey, maybe he's a fan of space."

"But he must be too hot inside. And he' ll drown in his tears. And where is...?"

"Your lover?"

"No! Well... yes."

"You know they've moved, Minho."

"Yes, but it's the same truck. I thought that... Mom, why do people leave and don't come back? I really wanted to see her again."

"Because every story has a beginning but also an end. You'll fall in love with a million other times, you'll have a million other stories that will make you forget the previous ones. Right, my sweetheart? Don't be sad, you'll have lots of other neighbors to have fun with."

"But Mommy! The others, they'll never be her! Never her."

And I left, leaving the last words unheard by all but my soul. I ran to my house, crushing the flower crown that my sister had just finished on the way. Between some sobs, I heard her screaming that I was a horrible brother, that she hated me and that she couldn't wait for me to leave so that she would be alone at home with mom and dad. Maybe she was right, I didn't really know. But I didn't care, that wasn't what mattered at the time. There was nothing that mattered, there was only my joy that faded away.

Actually, I was pissed off. It wasn't a strong hatred, it was just a child's anger that didn't really control his feelings. I was angry just because my lover had been replaced by a boy crying in his space helmet. I was angry because I couldn't even confess to her what I used to call my love at the time but which, compared to today, is only a fragment of the one I have for Jisung. I was angry because it had done something to me, that first image of him, and I didn't know what was going on. My daily life had been turned upside down and the curves of the destiny I'd imagined were changing.

To try to forget, I went back into the house and, at the same time, my father went out to join my mother who was going to help these neighbours get their things out of the transport truck. I walked past him without daring to look at him, afraid that he would get angry about I don't know what, about my face that looked sad or about the sobs that were starting to make my eyes sparkle.

And I locked myself in my room, trying to block the door with my desk chair, which wasn't blocking anything. I fell into my bed right next to the window that faced the other side of the street. With my nose in the sheets, I took a deep breath. It was the smell of vanilla that emanated from it. It was the soap that my parents were always using at that time, the yellow box with the vanilla flowers scattered all over the surface. I closed my eyes trying to imagine what my life would be like later, when I would find my beloved again. I tried to put shapes to my thoughts, colour and smells but the only thing I could remember was him. Between a few black screens and sketches of a pretty brunette girl, there were flashes of his face under my eyelids that went on and on endlessly.

After a while, the sun began to hit another part of the planet. From my window, I could see the sky tinting black or dark blue, I don't know. Anyway, night was falling and the window in front of mine lit up. He walked past, with nothing on but his pajamas. In his arms there were about ten books that he put on the only shelf that I could see before he turned towards me, probably to draw his curtains or close his shutters.

Then he stopped for a few moments, froze in the scenery and I did the same. I didn't make any gestures or anything, I just looked at him with his blond hair, his rounded cheeks and his smiling eyes. On his side, he must have seen me with completely ruffled hair and tired features. We stayed like that, one street apart, for one, two or three or maybe even four minutes without moving, almost with our breathing stopped.

And the lace curtains covered the window before I could even offer him a smile.


End file.
